A public footslave must serve all sorts of people, and the
sink-estate corridor footslave is no exception. Here you see me obliged to
kiss-respect the shoes of a mighty, older man. I don’t know his name, but I do
know he lives on the estate.
Praise be unto the unknown master-sir!
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A weel-dressed, elderly man approaches me down the sink estate corridor |
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I have served him before, so I know what to expect |
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Sure enough, the man stops in front of me, his shoes and socks effectively gloating over me in my helplessness |
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I get a particularly nice view of a tiny slither of his left sock |
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The sock of a real man - of a much better (and older) man than me! |
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As expected, he unceremoniously shoves his left foot onto my lowly footslave lips. his shoe smells, and tastes, musty! |
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'Study my sock, boy!'. The master-sir's voice is gruff - the voice of a man who MUST be obeyed! |
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'Yes, master sir. At once, master sir.' My voice is weak and feeble - the voice of an obedient slave! |
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I study the superb man's sock as I continue to kiss-respect his outstretched shoe-toe |
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It is a dark, somewhat nondescript sock... |
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...but nevertheless a sock which, by Law, I must study and admire - as I have been ordered to do so by the superior sock wearer |
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This is what I am become - a shoe-kissing, sock-studying slave to another man. Praise be unto him! |